


Devil in Your Hands

by lovelessly



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Double Penetration, Dubious Consent, Fingerfucking, Humiliation, Light Bondage, M/M, Moresomes, Oral Sex, Orgy, Voyeurism, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-08
Updated: 2013-12-29
Packaged: 2017-12-26 01:23:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/959931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelessly/pseuds/lovelessly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The original request was about Spy getting stuck in the air vent for some reason and someone discovering him, this is just barely about that.  I was gunning for something funny, something demented and kinky and possibly gross at the same time, not sure if I succeeded in any of those so far, but hey, you got to write what you want to read if you want other people to write it, am I right? Right? Yeah? (reposted from tf2chan)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Discovery

There was an awful tearing sound that practically echoed in the enclosed space, and Spy froze, every sense on high alert. When it seemed that no one below heard the noise, he exhaled quietly and quickly inspected his equipment for any damage. He found a significant rip in the cheap synthetic webbing from where the material caught on the jagged edge of an air vent, but luckily, that would not affect its performance at all. Slowly, carefully, he began to edge forward on elbows and knees, using all of the considerable experience he had acquired through years of spying in some of the most dangerous areas in the world. Occupied France, Moscow, the hostile jungles of southeast Asia, a certain neighborhood in Boston - not one place had kept its secrets from him for long… Which explained why he was spying on his own team at the moment.

It had started out as a challenge he undertook for fun, just to see if he could get away with sneaking around eight deadly and highly trained mercenaries. Or whatever Scout was. Of course, no one had noticed, and by now he had collected dozens of photographs and sound recordings, even a few grainy videos captured on the best devices that Spytech had to offer. They were all mostly harmless discoveries, nothing too embarrassing, and if anyone should ask what he was doing, he had already decided to tell them he was simply keeping his intelligence gathering skills honed. Just because nearly everyone on BLU had seen how he had gotten one past RED Spy, his number one rival in the business, didn’t mean that things would stay that way.

Even though he knew he did not have to prove anything, and had even less reason to blackmail his teammates or sabotage his job, he could not help himself. The rush of power he felt in hoarding classified knowledge, the immense satisfaction he got from perusing his secret notebooks and photographs and other data – every night he swore he would stop this petty snooping, but every day he thought of one more thing he ought to find out.

He had almost gotten back to his safe spot, a little-used closet deep within the base from where he had excellent access to other hidden routes, when he heard something that no spy ever wants to hear. No, not “That’s him, that’s the man who had sex with my family!” But worse. The sound of discovery.

With a loud clang, the grille to the duct leading over the hallway was yanked down, and Sniper’s head poked up through the square of light. “See, I told you it was a rat! A big, ugly one! With a beard!” This last statement was declared with understandable confusion.

“Goddammit, Spy, what the heck are you doin’ in the air ducts?!” Engineer shouted from somewhere below. “Git down here!”

From the sound of it, they had managed to corner him, some men in the hall where Sniper was now trying to grab for him, some men standing around in the adjoining bedroom, everyone yelling at each other. Already he could hear Heavy easily peeling down another vent, and he began to feel the first flickers of panic.

It didn’t matter that it was his own team catching him, it didn’t matter that friendly fire was supposed to have been turned off by now, it didn’t matter that he might have been able to explain everything using his powers of persuasion, passed it all off as a joke or newfangled military exercise. He had to get away. Spy tried to back up in order to escape through another vent, and in his haste, the rip in the camera beard snagged on a piece of metal, nearly tearing his ear off. But he couldn’t abandon this hard-won intelligence either. So he held onto it, and continued scooting backwards until he could reach a nearby branch and slip past his teammates that way. If he could just crawl away fast enough, before Sniper attempted to clamber into the duct and follow him as a mongoose follows its prey, before someone else, namely Soldier, tried to shoot both him and the air ducts full of holes…

He cursed when a huge hand clamped down on his ankle, pulling him inexorably towards the opening over the bedroom. So concerned with a snarling Sniper in front of him, he hadn’t even noticed Heavy behind him. Futilely, Spy dug his fingers into the smooth steel of the air duct, trying to delay his capture. Hopes of a clean escape vanished with each passing second, but his designer jacket with its silk lining and padded shoulders saved the day by bunching up around his shoulders, plugging him neatly in the vent.

“He is stuck.” Heavy gave the skinny leg dangling out of the ceiling another yank, to no effect. Everyone in the room cringed as the metal gave a warning squeal. It was true they were all hardy mercenaries used to working in physically demanding environments, but everyone on BLU would have preferred their air conditioning to be working rather than making do with the “natural ventilation” that RED got.

Spy watched worriedly as Sniper slipped back down and closed up the air vent from his side, and listened with growing dread as everyone gathered in the room to decide what to with a stuck spy. First, a rumble of discontent tinged with outrage as they came to the realization that their spy had been spying on them. A reassuring tone as someone logically pointed out that he hadn’t actually betrayed anything yet to the opposing team, at least to any visible result, followed by murmurs of reluctant agreement. 

“Still, hell of a way to spend your free time, sneaking around your mates like that.”

“I agree. He has been a little… off, ever since the refrigerator incident.”

Spy rolled his eyes. Apparently they were not going to ever let him live that down.

“But we can’t just leave him there! …Can we?”

“Mrph mmmprh!”

“Before we get him down, I say we teach him a lesson he won’t forget.”

The agreement sounded much less reluctant now, and nearing enthusiastic, and Spy frantically renewed his efforts to free himself. Unable to see anything and relying only on a muffled sense of hearing, Spy kicked out at the first hand that grabbed his foot. He must have clocked someone on the nose, judging by the pained yelp, but then two other hands held his legs still, prying off his shoes for some reason he could not yet discern. 

“How d’ye get these fancy socks off?”

“The sock garters. You will have to take off his trousers to get to them, I imagine.”

Someone else, probably standing on a chair, reached up around his waist, and Spy squirmed as the belt around his waist was loosened and dropped to the floor. Thick fingers unbuttoned his slacks, undoing the zipper, tugging the fabric down around his immobilized legs, and now he was shouting, not caring if they could understand him or not.

“Stop! Stop, stop – arrête!”

Laughter broke out among the team as the elastic of the garters were rolled down, the socks following soon after, until Spy was wearing nothing but his briefs from the waist down. There was no telling what they would do now to further humiliate him, and he did not feel eager to find out.

“Please, just let me down,” Spy begged. “I’ll give you the camera, just stop, please!”

“I knew you’d say that, you coward. But we are going to have some fun with you first.” It was Soldier on the chair, it must be his hand sliding up under his shirt, his fingers gripping one knee. The deadly seriousness in his voice frightened Spy more than anything else. “Trust me. You will enjoy this.”

 

Then the screaming and crying began in earnest.


	2. Cooperation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you don't like pee then turn back now. Let's just say, Spy doesn't get out of the vent until the very end of the chapter. Wink wink.

Spy had never considered himself a particularly imaginative person, but it took only two minutes of flailing about in the air vent before he was biting back little whines of soul-crushing terror. The helplessness of being trapped at the mercy of vengeful murderous captors, even if they were technically allies, could be enough to invoke mild concern in the most stoic of agents, but the disconnect between his eyes and ears and the rest of his body, combined with Soldier’s vaguely threatening insinuations, pushed him over the edge into unreasoning alarm. Not knowing, or knowing too late, that had been the demise of many a talented spy, and he could feel the clammy hand of Death reaching for him now.

Or that could be Medic’s hand. It was hard to tell the difference sometimes.

The camera beard, the entire reason he got into this mess, lay useless in his fist, and Spy rued the day he sent in a check for $4.12 to Mann Co for it because RED Spy ordered the very last portable baccarat detector they had in stock, the bastard.

But before they had such incredible technology at their disposal, spies must have been able to function as spies. Calm down, you fool, he told himself, use your brain, you’ve gotten out of worse situations wearing less clothes before.

Yes, that was definitely Soldier holding him by the waist and doing a terrible job of unbuttoning his vest and shirt onehanded. Then that must be Medic trying to help him, apparently from the ground, not able to reach much further than his belly. A nasal exclamation from behind the injured Scout whom he must have kicked, though the sets of hands around his ankles were too light to be Heavy’s and too high off the ground to be either Engineer or Pyro. Which left only two possibilities. If the one on his left was Demo, judging by the unbalanced pressure on one side, the right ought to be Sniper.

Armed with this awareness, Spy relaxed, just slightly, as if he had given up trying to escape, until he could feel the tightness in his teammates’ grips ease as well. It took a little more sang-froid to not flinch when they had finally unbuttoned as much of his waistcoat and shirt that could be reached, but as soon as he thought everyone’s attentions distracted enough by the glow of his ghastly pale belly, he brought his knees up and out with as much force as he could muster. Down on top of Sniper’s head, because he never looked up, into Demo’s left, where he was slower to react.

The screams of pain were, to say the least, satisfying to hear.

By sheer luck, Spy landed one foot on top of Soldier’s helmet and he used that as a platform to boost himself back into the air vent. He had gotten as much as half of his body up when he felt something whip around his ankle.

“Gotcha! You’re not getting away yet!”

Somehow, somehow, Engineer had lassoed him with the extension cord he always carried looped at his belt and was pulling him back down into the room. Spy groaned aloud in despair as his suit jacket once more bunched up around his armpits. This was the end, he would never get another chance to escape now.

From the sound of it, Soldier had apparently gotten back on the chair and was furious. “You will pay dearly for that, sweetcakes!”

There were grunts of concurrence from Sniper and Demo below.

Bracing himself, Spy waited for the blow to come. Even though they (probably) could not shoot him up or chop him into pieces, there were ways to torture a man that could slip by a friendly fire ban. He, of all people, would know; he had performed such tortures before, during a mission in Algiers, and had experienced them as well. But whatever these brutes could think of to do to break his spirit or exact their vengeance, he would endure, as he had before and most likely will again.

When his teammates finally set upon him, Spy had to gasp aloud in surprise. Then he laughed. And could not stop laughing.

“Stop! Stop that!” he screamed, or tried to scream through the undignified snorts and giggles.

“Never!” everyone else chorused back, and at least another half dozen fingertips flitted along the soles of his bare feet, up his ankles, over his shins and calves. He tried to wriggle away, but of course he could not move very far, not with everything from the chest up still stuck in an increasingly stuffy air vent, not with Engineer’s extension cord looped around one foot.

“SCREAMING EAGLES!” Soldier shouted, and he went for Spy’s exposed ribs with gusto. “Take that! And that!”

 

The assault upon his unprotected body did not relent, and his protests, his pleas and threats and appeals to mercy, grew steadily weaker, for with each gulp of air he tried to take, someone’s attack would steal it right from his lungs. At one point, Spy was seeing stars through his tears, vision tunneling, and he prayed fervently for Respawn to take him away. But luck was not on his side, he was not whisked away to safety, and instead, he felt a decidedly different twinge of desperation burn in his lower body. Oh God, he thought, not now.

He begged once more for them to stop, voice cracking in his distress. That only made the rest of the team laugh and tease him even more. There was nothing Spy could do, he could not even cross his legs to prevent it, though he tried, rubbing his thighs together frantically.

Then someone was grabbing his hip with one hand, callused fingers digging into his skin.

“Well, wot have we here?”

Of course, Sniper, he must have smelled the tang of his fear, must have detected it for what it presaged. He was a master of the art of Jarate, after all.

Spy almost shrieked when he felt Sniper palming him over his underwear. Everyone else paused what they were doing, watching, and Scout was heard to be making noises of disgust.

“C’mon now, don’t be shy,” he heard Sniper call out. “Just go, you’ll feel so good after it’s all over.”

“Shut up, you filthy convict,” Spy hissed, but the urge was growing ever stronger, and he felt fit to burst at any moment now. He panted and squirmed, clenching every fiber of muscle in his body against the desire, hoping against hope that nothing would set him off and he could leave this day with just one last shred of dignity intact.

As Engineer might say, nope.

He had no idea which moron tickled him again, but he already swore to kill the entire team anyway, disabled friendly fire be damned.

“There we go, there’s a good spook,” Sniper said encouragingly, as Spy sobbed in humiliation. He had been crying too hard to have much water left in his body, but there was apparently enough to form a noticeable wet spot in his underwear.

“Gross, Snipes!" Scout exclaimed. "That's sick!”

“What? Urine is sterile!” Sniper retorted, hand still working over Spy's soiled briefs.

“It is?!”

“Isn’t it?”

“I thought so…”

That would have been the perfect opportunity for Medic to jump in with an educational but mostly irrelevant lecture, but he did not rise to the bait. In fact, no one said anything for a while, on account of them watching as Sniper stopped fondling his victim and slid his kukri out of its sheath, plying its keen edge against Spy’s hipbone.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Spy demanded, though no one could have possibly heard such him in his current breathless state, Sniper answered him anyway. 

“Can’t let you stew around in yer own piss, that’s no way to take care of a teammate.”

“Affirmative!” Soldier declared.

“But I ain’t letting go, either.” A warning tug on the extension cord from below.

“So we cut,” Heavy said. “Is simple.”

Murmurs of agreement, and Spy held back a full-body flinch as Sniper began slicing away at his briefs in deft movements. Nearly a minute later, he was still at it, and Spy began to get a little antsy.

At last the underwear fell apart, and he felt Sniper gathering it in one hand, pressing the cotton up against Spy’s bared groin, wiping at his damp skin. Spy knew not what to think of it. But there seemed to be some other intent, with how slowly and carefully Sniper was moving, long, deliberate strokes up and down his cock.

“What. Are. You. Doing.”

“Just… getting you dry,” Sniper told him with remarkable blandness, considering he was, for all intents and purposes, fondling a half-naked man, stuck in the ceiling like some sort of obscene chandelier, in front of seven other coworkers.

But no one else said anything, not even a peep was heard from Scout’s motor mouth for at least forty-five seconds, and then it was just to say, “Heavy, move your fat ass, I can’t see.”

That clinched it for Spy. Not again, he thought, as he gathered his ebbing strength and tried to make a scramble for it, regardless of someone holding his cock, which might have been even pleasant during some less embarrassing situation.

The team went to action in an instant, and in a display of unprecedented cooperation, helped Engineer pull Spy back down into the room with such force, they broke the air duct.

“High five!”


	3. Reckoning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sex is in the next chapter, hold your horses.

He must have hit his head on the way down from the ceiling. There had been a stomach-churning second or two when he could not see anything, and his world suddenly flooded in agony. Lying on the floor, Spy groaned and blinked the stars from his vision, but then the room started swirling, and he decided it would be better to keep his eyes closed for a little while longer.

“Medic! MEEEEEDIIIIIIIC!!!”

“I’m right here, there is no need to shout.”

“Jesus Christ, did we kill him? Again?”

“Someone get me the Medigun. Quickly now.”

As Pyro trundled out to the infirmary to fetch the recharging Medigun, Medic knelt beside Spy in a rustle of wool, reaching for his leg. Understandably, Spy flinched, and when he did, he had to bite down a scream from the pain shooting through his body.

“Don’t move, you will make it worse.”

Clenching his teeth, Spy endeavored to remain still while Medic quickly inspected him from the tip of his toes up to his heaving chest.

“How is he, doctor?” Heavy asked.

“A friction burn on the ankle, which has been sprained, if not broken. Possible simple fractures elsewhere, on the iliac crest, the lower left ribs, but… nothing too serious.”

It sounded, and moreover felt, rather serious to Spy, but he said nothing, simply watched their faces, searching for anything he could use, before remembering that these were his teammates. That just made him search even harder.

He sought Sniper first, found the gunman lurking in the back, turned slightly away from the rest of the crowd, and Spy could only assume he was having a wank while burying his face in urine-soaked underwear, as that seemed like the disgusting and unsocialized thing he would do. Harmless, then, at least for a few more minutes. Fortunately, Medic appeared to be in one of his sane spells, as he took out a bandage roll from the basic medkit he carried without asking “What the hell is this for?” like he sometimes did when presented with actual medical supplies. Soldier, on the other hand, was practically simmering with indignant energy, and Demo beside him looked barely conscious of what was going on. At least Engineer, staring at the ceiling, seemed concerned with the more practical matter of fixing their air conditioning and patching up the damaged ceiling vent and plasterwork. Heavy, Pyro, both accounted for, which only left Scout…

Scout grabbed wildly for the beard, but Spy, guessing his intent just in time, moved faster. He snatched it away from the young mercenary’s grasp, curling up on his side with a wheeze to protect the intelligence.

“Aww, cripes, Spy!” Scout exclaimed in consternation. “Don’t put it on your… aw, jeez!”

“Come and get it, if you dare.” No one seemed particularly eager to take him up on this.

“You Matahari! You were so eager to give it up earlier,” Soldier growled, “but I should have expected that you would change your mind. Just like the woman you really are!”

Fixing them all with a withering glare, Spy retorted, “Even if you did manage to take this camera from me, even if Engineer could decode it, it is just one of several pieces of evidence in my possession. You will never find them all, never.”

“H-he’s bluffing! S’gotta be!”

“Well, I say we make him talk! Wring it out of him!”

As Scout flexed his fingers about his bat, and Sniper, who had been sufficiently interested by the noise to rejoin the group, started unbuckling his belt in anticipation, Spy began to regret his little show of defiance. The clink of metal against metal, the hissing slide of leather over denim, such small and insignificant noises in a room full of men armed to the teeth, seemed to attract their attention, and then other hands strayed, and oh God, he thought, trying to suppress a groan of dread, not that, anything but that. 

“Gonna make you sing, bluebird,” Sniper murmured, eyes focused somewhere else, concentrating on his craft, and Spy’s revulsion for him only increased tenfold once he realized that his own shredded, soaked underwear had been hastily tucked into the gunman’s back pocket. “Maybe even get a little help from our mates, wouldn’t you like that?”

Boots shuffled closer, closing in around him, and he was leaning away in response, as if he had anywhere to go, but he couldn’t just cower there, he couldn’t let them defile his body any further with their, with their…

“Now hold on just a minute,” Engineer interrupted, as the voice of the closest thing they had to reason in the entire base. “Look, we can’t erase what Spy already knows, and there’s no point resorting to violence, he’s on our side, it wouldn’t have any effect. …Well, it shouldn’t, anyway.” At the chorus of disappointed protests, and in Spy’s case, fervent agreement, Engineer held up his hands for quiet. “But if y’all would care to listen, I got an idea I think will work for everyone…”

The rest of the team all huddled around Engineer for a conference, and Spy, giving up on retrieving his jacket if guns and knives would prove to be of no use, glanced at his watch. He doubted he could get away with cloaking in such a cramped space, though; certainly his teammates would spot him with no trouble. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to stake out an escape route, test how much weight he could put on his injured ankle, just in case.

By the time they broke out of the huddle, Spy had managed to drag his battered person a little closer to the door, only to discover that someone had locked it using all seven padlocks. Even as fast as he could go, they would be all over him before he could draw the last deadbolt back.

With a small sigh of defeat, he laid his head back down on his arms, ignoring Soldier nudging at him with the toe of his boot.

“I wouldn’t relax just yet, sugarplum! You got quite a bit of talking to do once we get through with you.”

Medic knelt down beside Spy again, who deigned to lift his head up to glare at him.

“It will go much more quickly for you, for us all, if you cooperate,” he said quietly, lapsing into German.

“Non.” As if he hadn’t heard that before.

“Spy, this is not the time to be showing a backbone.”

“You all tried to tickle me to death!” Spy retorted under his breath. “I don’t owe any of you anything.”

Medic frowned, conceding this point, then in a triumph of scientific spirit over bedside manner, he ventured to ask, “At least share that experience with us, being nearly tickled to death. Did you see a white light, your life flashing before your eyes, perhaps?”

Spy humphed and refused to answer; Medic must get his data another time.

Crouching to the other side of Spy, Engineer patted his shoulder lightly with the mechanical arm, his grin looking oddly menacing in such a genial face. “You should be thanking me, Spy. I convinced ‘em that plain ole’ torture wasn’t going to work on a trained agent like you. That we needed a… gentler touch, something more suited to your… unique tastes.”

“How generous.”

“I knew you’d understand. Clever fella like you.” Metal fingers brushed against Spy’s cheekbone, icy, unyielding, then Engineer caught Medic’s gaze and nodded curtly. “Medic, if you please.”

“Of course.” There was an audible snap as Medic pulled on a rubber glove and retrieved a tube of something from the medkit, before squirting some of its contents out onto his fingers, rubbing his fingertips together meaningfully. In the hush that followed, Spy felt more than saw the weight of his teammates’ combined stares on his half-naked body, understood their purpose as clearly as if they spoke it aloud. More than ever, he wished Respawn had taken him as he was being tickled to death, although he granted that anything would have been preferable to death by drowning in another man’s bodily waste.

“I have always thought you were a monster, laborer,” Spy hissed at last, not bothering to hide his contempt and disgust. “Thank you for confirming it.”

“Aren’t you cute?” Engineer replied calmly. “Now just lie back and relax, we’ll take good care of you, you’ll see. It’s a team effort, and you’re part of the team.”

After all that had happened, it was a little too late for any of that to sound reassuring in the slightest, and yet Spy found himself intrigued despite the tremors of fear that wracked his nerves. Trapped, wounded, humiliated beyond belief; they had left him with nothing, but he would be damned if he left them with anything. Even in this hopeless situation, his mind worked instinctively to find an advantage. They made a mistake when they pulled him out, letting a blind man see, a deaf man hear. He will make them pay for what they’ve done, and even better, he’d enjoy it. Just as they had planned.

Taking a steadying breath, Spy did as he was told, flopping onto his back, but leaving the camera beard where it was covering his crotch looking disturbingly much like a long-dead animal. Then, only then, did he smile back at Engineer, just as nastily. “Well, I rather doubt any of you can satisfy me, but I admit I am curious to see you try.”

“And what do you mean by that, huh?”

“You intend to pleasure a man of sophistication such as myself with your uncouth techniques? You expect to succeed in overcoming my sensibilities and making me talk? Please. Don’t make me laugh.” Not that he could laugh anymore, not without seriously injuring his organs. But the urge to mock his coworkers, to revel in their realization of their own inadequacy, that overrode any survival instinct that had not already been beaten out of him by their endless war with RED.

“Tell me,” Spy continued, loud enough so everyone else could hear, “when was the last time any of you entertained a woman in bed? Scout, there is no need to answer, we all know you are a virgin, that is not a secret at all. And Demoman, Soldier, sorry to say Vegas does not count, prostitutes are paid to tell you that.” He could not stop himself, not even if he was paid another million dollars to. “Medic, do you even remember your wife’s name? I thought so. Oh, I could go on, but I think I feel a laugh coming on!”

“I’m not a virgin! I’ve had loads of sex before! With girls!”

“How dare ye say such a thing about Medic’s wife! Leave ‘er out of this!”

“Wait, that was our Medic’s wife?!”

“K-Katarina? Mein Gott…”

“…I liked my way better, think we should have gone with that.”

Everyone paused in their outbursts to stare at Sniper, who was the one to say this last piece, and all in the room swiftly came to an unspoken agreement to ignore him as much as possible.


	4. Defiling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This 8 person orgy was so long I considered dividing it into two parts but decided that action went pretty fast. And don't worry, you AO3 readers will (probably) get an extra special epilogue not included in the original version, it's like a never ending sex party around here.

“Enough of this.” Engineer got to his feet, pushing Scout over. “What are you waiting for? Get your pants off, boy.”

“What?! No way!” Scout blurted out, as if suddenly realizing the extent of the plan and not relishing the mandatory participation part at all. He would be the first to admit he might have ogled a bit, anyone with eyes would, but it was just looking, it was not sticking your dick into another man like some sort of desperate queer. Which he wasn’t. Desperate or queer. “I didn’t sign up for none of this!”

“Then you can watch,” Spy said, looking utterly bored of these proceedings. “I certainly don’t expect you to last long enough for me to feel particularly moved.”

“Hey! You shut up, you…!”

Heavy was sniggering, and Demo outright cackled.

“Very well,” Spy said with a sigh. “Come here, Scout, I will take care of that virginity for you.”

“I’m not a virgin!”

“Just close your eyes, and I will suck you off, that is all.”

“What did I just say, no gay stuff!” The amount of protest in his tone had decreased drastically in that short amount of time, but Scout still clung to his precious heterosexuality as if it were a life preserver in a maelstrom of gay stuff. Spy almost, almost, felt sorry for him. Not as sorry as he felt for himself, though. 

“You can pretend I am a woman, if it bothers you so much. I have been told I do a good impersonation, of an older woman, of course…” A hairy older woman, in this case, but no one told him to shave this morning in the event he might have to perform unspeakable sexual acts on his own team members.

Scout swallowed hard, eyes darting, and Spy knew he had the boy utterly ensnared. “Y-you’ll do that? I… guess that’s okay, I mean, as long as our junk isn’t touching or nothing.”

“Hurry now, before I stop pitying you.” Spy glanced over to see Engineer scowling at him, certain that the other mercenary had recognized the reversal of mood, and was trying to think of what to do next to regain control of the situation. A smirk began to curl on his lips. It was dangerous, playing against a genius such as Engineer, but then again, BLU did not pay him to be safe.

Spy watched in amusement as Scout scuttled forward, the boy still apparently squeamish about getting a free blowjob that he did not have to deceive anyone for. 

“You’re not going to bite me?”

“Not unless you want me to.”

He shook his head quickly. “N-no, no thanks.”

“Then come a little closer. Let me see you.” Gently, he guided Scout to stand in front of him, while he rose up to a more comfortable position, ignoring the twinges in his hips and ankle, letting the camera beard fall to the ground below. Just a few teasing caresses later, and Scout was fumbling to get the waistband of his pants down as fast as he possibly could. In another universe, Spy thought he might have offered this on his own, because he was not sure he could get such fantastic entertainment elsewhere. 

“Oh yeah, you’re getting a real treat tonight, babe,” Scout muttered, sweaty hands working at himself.

Fighting the urge to laugh and possibly split his side open as a result, Spy instead affected the throatiest, most feminine chuckle he could manage.

“Ooh, lucky me,” he murmured, voice breathy and sultry. “Give it to me, big boy.”

Even with how close Scout seemed to be, Spy took his time, lavishing attention to the almost quivering cock held out before him, pressing his lips to the taut skin, breathing in the light scent of perspiration and soap, before sliding his tongue out to trace a line up, then down, but never quite cresting the tip. He opened his eyes once, to make sure they were all watching, and then he took Scout fully into his mouth.

“Oh, fuck, Christ, fucking…” Scout was babbling as Spy began sucking, using his tongue and lips, working at him steadily with the business-like air of a professional. Spy couldn’t help but give him a little nip, just a little spiteful scrape of teeth, but that did the trick. With a strangled groan, Scout thrust into his throat, coming hard, and Spy swallowed the hot rush down, every last drop.

Pulling away, Spy licked at his lips and glanced up coyly. Scout’s cheeks glowed bright red, his expression torn between shame and satisfaction as he came to his senses.  
“That was… amazing.”

“For something that lasted less than a minute, I suppose so.” Scout’s flush deepened, but he was still grinning to himself as he sidled out of the way, weak-legged, towards the bed and maybe a box of tissues if he was lucky.

Spy barely had a moment to himself when he felt cool fingers start a slow slide up the inside of his thigh. Responding to the nudge, Spy spread his legs a little wider, let those slick fingers stroke him, testing, teasing, not yet penetrating.

“Nothing personal,” Medic whispered, before pushing in through the tight ring of muscle, drawing out a tense, guttural moan from Spy. His other hand reached over to steady one hip as Spy rocked forward on his hands and knees, as he leaned back onto those fingers with a sigh of delight. Encouraged, Medic added a third finger, slipping it in, reaching for his prostate and finding it near instantly. Spy’s breath caught, and then he uttered a cry as something sparked through his body, so bright and fierce as to make his entire body tremble.

Medic was still murmuring to him, in German now, though Spy could hardly spare a thought to translating his words, when all he cared about were the places where their bodies connected, the hand at his hip, fingers sliding in and out with practiced familiarity, the hot hard bulge pressing against the back of his thigh through layers of fabric. Nothing personal indeed, he thought, grinding playfully back against Medic’s groin, smiling to hear the calm voice stop and stutter harshly. Spy snuck a glance over his shoulder just to indulge in the other man’s expression as Medic recovered and continued to stretch him open with an enjoyment far beyond the course of usual practice.

Something tugged at his neck and now Demo was kneeling in front of him, the end of his tie grasped in one hand like a leash. Not needing to be asked, Spy parted his lips, eager to be filled again, and since Demo was obviously not going to be offering him a cigarette, he will take what he can get. He licked eagerly at the hands nearing his face, sucking on one broad index finger before it pulled back to slide over his lower lip, down his chin and throat, pausing at the hollow where the knot of blue silk nestled.

“Patience, now, ye’ll be getting plenty of me soon,” Demo told him with a laugh, loosening the tie, letting the material slip to the ground. His vest and shirt soon followed, until Spy was laid bare to the audience save for his mask and gloves. 

“He’s ready,” Medic said, decidedly more breathless than Spy had ever heard him before, and he felt the doctor withdraw in silence, letting Demo take his turn. He almost hit his head again as he was maneuvered to the floor, right where he had bumped it earlier in the fall, but then Demo was plunging into him, distracting him completely. Even Medic’s extensive preparation wasn’t enough for the sudden fullness, and he arched his back sharply to receive him. Writhing on the floor, Spy tried to take a breath, to verbalize the pleasure, the pain; Demo never gave him the chance. For someone so constantly drunk and/or hungover, Demo rose to the challenge, literally, lifting pale legs up over his shoulders in order to drive himself down into Spy, with hard, quick jerks of his hips. Everything in Spy’s body ached, from the previous injuries, the added strain on his lower body, the pressure of being practically folded in half, but he loved it all, couldn’t ask for more. 

“Please, give it, give it to me,” Spy moaned through his gasps for breath, and before he could even reach to touch his neglected cock, Demo was coming, his groan a low sweet rumble that was bliss to hear. He kept moving, but slower, gentler, dark gaze lowered to watch himself fuck the other man until his softening erection slid out at last.

Kissing one bony knee as he disentangled himself, Demo flashed him a grin, and Spy returned it with a trembling smile of his own, wondering if that really was an invitation, if he should take him up on that, maybe get more of whatever Medic’s wife must have been getting all this time.

While he mused, he heard Soldier’s voice somewhere above and to his left.

“Good work, private. I’ll take over from here.”

Demo shook his head, chuckling, and Spy almost regretted to see him get up, to have Soldier, a man who actively loathed him, in his place instead. That was why he was surprised at the care Soldier took in helping him up to his knees, avoiding touching him where he hurt any longer than absolutely necessary. Spy hesitated for a moment, not certain what Soldier intended, unsure of what to do next. Then Engineer knelt in front of him, goggles removed for the time being to show a hint of suspicion still lingering in his eyes. 

Unable to look away, Spy watched as Engineer undid the bib of his overalls, pushing the denim down below his waist, the real hand working his nearly hard cock out of his boxers. The robotic hand snaked forward to wrap around Spy’s waist, pulling him closer until he was half sitting, half crouching, over Engineer’s lap.

“Hop on, sweetheart,” Engineer said, his polite tone belying the mischief in his smile. “No need to be shy now.”

“What do you,” Spy began, cutting himself off with a little yelp when Soldier smacked him across the buttocks with the flat of his belt.

“You’ll thank me later for that.”

Exhaling through his nose indignantly, Spy obeyed, thighs trembling as he sought to lower himself onto Engineer’s thick cock, while the other man leaned back to observe him. It hardly hurt; on the contrary, it felt incredible. The hand that wasn’t metal, that wasn’t supporting his hip, was massaging his ass, encouraging him to go all the way down, and Spy would have gladly done so, but for Soldier’s hot breath ghosting along the back of his neck like a warning.

“Mon dieu,” and he choked on the rest of his curse, understanding now why Soldier had hit him.

Biting his lip, Spy tried to relax, tried to take them both in at once, though the effort to accommodate both men forced a hiss out of him.

“Easy there,” Soldier muttered, hands pressing at Spy’s waist as he eased himself in along with Engineer. The constriction was bound to sting for all involved, so he rubbed carefully at the beautifully curved back, at the dip at the base of the spine, then up along the knobs of the vertebrae, until Spy relaxed, little by little, just enough for him to push all the way in.

None of them could be expected to maintain such an uncomfortable position for more than a minute or two, but then again, it didn’t take long for either Engineer or Soldier to release. Moving in tandem, they fucked him, alternating between long, sweet strokes, and faster, rougher ones as they pleased, callused hands roving over every inch of his body they could touch. Soldier came first, growling out his praise to sweet Liberty in his orgasm, and in doing so, collapsed heavily onto Spy, causing Engineer to fall back on the floor as hapless as an overturned turtle. Taking this in stride, Spy continued to move, until all of a sudden, the robot hand nearly cut off circulation to his femoral, and he felt Engineer’s final erratic thrusts gradually slow and still. With happy although slightly pained groans, both men slid themselves out of him with obscenely wet sounds, to roll over onto their backs to recover.

Even if he was being ignored only momentarily, Spy allowed himself a wince at the emptiness between his legs, still unsatisfied so far, still needing more.

He did not realize he had said anything aloud until a large shadow blocked the stark light overhead.

“I can do more,” Heavy said quietly, and Spy simply nodded, too exhausted to say anything. He let himself be moved, however Heavy wanted him, he no longer cared.

“Is this good?” Heavy asked, while Spy, on elbows and knees, shook and shuddered under his palms.

It took him a moment to speak around the dryness in his throat, but he managed somehow. “Yes, just please, get on with it, please.”

“You need me?”

“Ah, yes, I do,” Spy breathed, head lolling forward onto his arms as he lifted his hips higher. “Please.”

He was so careful, his huge fingers clutching the thin body lightly as if he thought Spy might shatter with the slightest pressure, the massive cock pressing into him almost hesitantly. There might have been some discomfort at the penetration, for apparently having two men fuck him at the same time did not stretch him enough, but Spy forgot about it once Heavy began to move in short, shallow thrusts. Such tenderness he could not bear, this slow, rocking rhythm, intolerably cruel in its gentleness. Unthinking, he rolled his hips, pulling Heavy further in, wringing out a gravelly moan from the larger mercenary. Everything else sounded muffled to his ears; only their unsteady breaths and lust-filled groans, the firm slap of flesh against flesh as they fucked with mounting abandon, only those rang clear. Spy almost sighed in disappointment when Heavy gave one last thrust, emptying himself into him, his rumbling growl of pleasure echoing in the room.

Yet even that did not push him over, he was left wanting, desperately so, after Heavy pulled out of him. And to his dismay, the last man in the room was ready and willing to take on that challenge.

Spy tried to crawl away, but his limbs would not respond, and Sniper was now hefting up one leg, drawing him closer. Helpless in the grasp of the one teammate he would not ever touch of his own accord, Spy drew up enough strength to kick Sniper in the temple as he plunged into him in one smooth motion.

“Stop that, I’m trying to help for crying out loud!” Sniper ground out through clenched teeth, dodging another weak kick.

“You stop first!” Spy hissed back. “I don’t want your help, ah!”

The breath was slammed out of him as Sniper shoved him flat onto his back, still bucking into him. Manfully, he struggled against Sniper, but in his exhaustion, his trembling legs just gave up and lay spread wide and open for the gunman. Then Sniper changed the angle of his thrust just so, and Spy seized up around the long, stiff cock rammed deep inside him, overwhelmed by the unexpected jolt of pleasure.

Encouraged, Sniper continued his heedless pace, making sure to brush that spot again and again, muttering filthy things under his breath that had Spy flushing red and also confused as to why he never plied his silver tongue before especially during Soldier’s crazier briefings, like that one time he made everyone do jumping jacks before breakfast even Heavy.

“Aren’t you disgusting? A real slut you are, all loose and wet, fuck. Couldn’t stand watching everyone fuck you, cum in you, but thought I could wait. So I’d be the last one, yeah? S’right, the one you’d remember.”

With patience born of necessity and also the convenience of having empty mason jars lying about, Sniper pressed forward, pounding into Spy determinedly.

“Still fighting, love? Ah, no worries.”

Spy heaved and thrashed, his body shaking from holding out so long, but still he clung to his pride, still he would not cave into the ecstasy that wracked him inside and out. Not Sniper, never Sniper, he vowed.

His resistance held out just long enough to succumb spectacularly when everyone else got the bright idea to maybe give Sniper a little support once in a while, a good chap he is, deserves a helping hand or three.

“No, no, no, no,” Spy cried out, trying to swat away their hands skimming over his straining cock, palms brushing over his thighs and ribs, fingers flicking over his nipples. His numbed nerves came alive with the fresh stimulation, the desire in his blood fanned anew, and he knew he could not last another second, not like this.

He did not recall screaming so loud in his life. Or for that matter, coming so hard. 

“Got you.” Sniper was smiling down at him, beatifically, as if he had not just fucked him sideways until he cried.

Laying dazed from the aftermath of his orgasm, Spy hiccupped on a sob welling up in his throat, almost vomited, swallowed his bile down and then nearly threw up again at the strange taste. Right, he had sucked Scout off. And let himself be fucked by five other men. Well.

There was an awkward silence that must necessarily result when a gentleman of many hats has just participated in sexual depravities with other gentlemen also of numerous hats. Should they shake hands now and zip up their flies before going about their business as if nothing had happened? Should they go to the showers at any point in the near future, and if so, one at a time or together, because going together seemed like a terrible idea. Or should they at least have dinner, which, left neglected this whole time, ought to have burned down the base by now.

These important questions were answered by the shattering of wood under the force of a fire axe, and Pyro poking its mask into the hole it had made in the door. For a moment, it stared about the room, taking in the scene, and then it raised its mask to the heavens and screamed an inhuman scream of a thousand primeval horrors.

Everyone scattered, falling over their dropped trousers as splinters flew everywhere. Once the door had been blasted off its hinges, Pyro charged into the room, wielding its axe for a killing blow, the Medigun it had fetched at great cost lying outside the room on the ground. Then as suddenly as it raged, Pyro quieted, collapsing to the ground in a miserable lump and sobbing brokenly into the carpet.

“Oh, this was Pyro’s room, wasn’t it?”


	5. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welp, I thought I was gonna be able to write one last sexy chapter, but I couldn't. Here is the original epilogue. Thanks for coming on this ride with me.

“I apologize for you know… what happened… in your room. It wasn’t my idea, you know.” 

Pyro somehow managed to look unconvinced. 

“I understand that your room is your sanctuary, and I can’t imagine what it must feel like having to burn everything you own. If there is anything I can do…” 

It shook its hands above its head, an obvious no. 

“Might I offer you something of value in return then?” 

Pyro crossed its arms, sulking, but Spy pressed the camera beard into the crook of its elbow. 

“At least take a look.” 

“Murph mph mmph?” 

“It was running the whole time.” 

With a roar, Pyro got up and shoved Spy, still laughing, out the newly repaired door. But when he reached to take his beard back, Pyro snatched it away and slammed the door in his face. 

 

He was not surprised when someone came by his room the next night. Opening the door to the timid knock, he let Pyro shuffle in, closing it quietly behind them. 

“You need the code, yes? A player as well?” 

Pyro nodded hopefully. 

“Come with me.” 

Spy held out a hand, squeezed the rubber gloved hand that settled in his palm affectionately, and then led Pyro out into his secret passageway.


End file.
